#without making it private and then losing it in the sea of posts

[hazbinbabbling4ever]

I think purity culture has ruined fandoms: everyone is so ansty to prove how pure they are that they attack and harass people horribly and call it "activism". Be it people attacking teenagers in the Marauders fandom because there's this new rule you can't even write the words Harry Potter without summoning a hoard of naysayers who accuse you of endorsing holocaust or some shit just for liking something linked with Miss Black Mold, or be it people harassing SA victims who still dare say they find solace in their old NCG's fandoms, in the stories they loved and made theirs from their childhoods or as adults. This uglyness that runs into tumblr and is infecting every fandom, every social media actually, is so fucking gross. Putting the blame of the evils of consumerism or rich people onto the single person reeks of late stage activism. No one knows what to do anymore, so we start eating each others, and then purity culture morphs into these extreme forms of harassment, that are becoming more and more normal by the day.

I'm starting to get tired of the internet as a whole.

[llamagoddessofficial]

What if, pray tell, somehow, the bad guys were the one sick and mc taking care of them?

(Absolutely in love with your posts, keep it up! ❤️)

holy shit anon you're so valid for this

Horror won't leave your side. He doesn't get sick very often, he's a tough guy, so when he does get sick it's pretty serious. But he simply won't let you be alone. Though his breathing is haggard, he's sweating bullets, his eyelight is struggling to focus and he's swaying on his feet, he's stuck to your side. His feverish mind can't stop thinking about all the horrible things that might happen to you when he's not concentrating, he won't allow physical weakness to stop him from watching over the people he loves. The only way to get him to sleep is to tell him you need him to guard you while you sleep. Lured into laying down with you, he might finally just succumb to his fatigue and rest. But even then he must keep an arm over you. Just in case.

Dust is already quiet. So when he's ill, he entirely verbally shuts down, he usually just pretends he's fine or disappears away to his room where he won't be disturbed. But when he doesn't feel well and you're around, he gets cuddly. He quietly reverts to his more Sans-like behaviour, unabashedly seeking physical comfort; he'll hold your hand, nuzzle you, put his head against your chest so he can listen to your heart. Because he's so quiet, he'll often make you jump, unintentionally sneaking up on you. Much like Horror, if you want him to stay in bed you're gonna have to stay with him. But he's easy to look after - make some Sea Tea and put on a movie, and his fever will turn him into a big clingy hot water bottle. You might even be able to coax him into taking his hoodie off. Try not to think about the fact that you might be the only person left in the world that he can cuddle.

It's very, very strange to see Killer without his smile. When he's ill he loses his sense of humour, becoming snappy and sharp. It's amazing how, despite openly mocking him so often, the other skeletons appear genuinely intimidated by a humourless Killer. They give him an impressively wide berth. Perhaps it's a sign that there's a side of Killer you haven't seen yet - a side the other three have seen, that gives them reason to be so anxious. ... You've got nothing to worry about, though. He's still the same Killer. He might be irritable, but he'll do whatever you ask of him. Illness turns him into a huffy tsundere that cracks the moment you use a gentle voice.

Nightmare doesn't get sick. ... At least... he doesn't admit when he's sick. But you'll be able to tell, because he'll be extra grouchy, extra short-tempered, extra tired. He barks out commands to his underlings and reactions angrily to extremely minor infractions. In public, do not draw attention the fact that he's unwell. He won't appreciate it. ... But in private? You can tease him, you can poke him, you can treat him like a big baby. He doesn't protest. He may grumble - but he doesn't stop you. In fact, he draws you closer. If you get him in private, use your sweetest voice, squish his cheekbones, kiss his skull, call him saccharine pet names. This is the most you'll ever get away with. He's clearly soaking up attention.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I have gotten so many messages from folks who see what's happening to Jews right now, how literally any statement from us that isn't straight up "death to Israel!" "tear it down!" "river to the sea!" etc. - no matter how tempered in other ways or critical of the Israeli government it is - anything even mildly supportive of the terrorism victims/their families in their grief and/or Israelis deserving to live is getting dog piled to an absurd degree. And yes, that primarily targets Jews (because we're the ones primarily speaking on it) but it definitely is also hitting anyone not Jewish who says this as well. Immediately, overnight, the left has made any position that respects everyone's human rights and allows Jews room to grieve our murdered and missing family and friends without telling us they deserved to die in terrible ways completely radioactive. Like literally even the most milquetoaste statement attracts numerous hysterical commentators. And because it's so toxic, people are afraid to speak up.

And I've now heard from a lot of gentiles that they had no idea how deep the rot of leftist antisemitism went, how they've been seeing this unfold with horror, and are afraid to speak up.

Here's what I'll say: those messages give me a lot of strength, because they help me remember that I'm not insane, that this is horrendous, and we are seeing in real time exactly who would have helped the Gestapo find us if they were sufficiently convinced that this is "decolonization." That yes, the backlash really *is* that bad. I hear that affirmation and I appreciate it, and I understand your fear, because it was mine too. I myself strongly considered at the beginning not saying anything about this until I could do so without being harassed. (I decided against that because I am physically incapable of shutting up when it pertains to my people, but I understand the sentiment.)

Here's the thing: this is never going to end - those people who take seriously the question "are Jews people?" are going to be the vocal minority unless and until we all speak out. Jews are 2% of the US population and 0.2% of the world's population - there are literally more self-identified Nazis in America than there are Jews. I would honestly be surprised if there weren't more horseshoe theory leftists in the world than Jews also.

That being the case, we really do need our allies to speak up with us. I think if we all spoke up at once, it might be enough to break the silence-taken-as-agreement and shame everyone but the avowed antisemites (rather than the thoughtless and opportunistic ones) back into keeping their antisemitism under wraps. Which does have the effect of bringing the mob under control. Jews have faced a ton of mob violence in the form of pogroms throughout our history and backlash to Jewish victimhood. (Tl;dr - "How dare you make me consider how I might have benefited from or been complicit in hurting Jews? This is actually the fault of the Jews." is a disturbingly common thought process.) (You may also be wondering what I mean by "opportunistic;" I can explain in another post if people are interested.)

I know it's scary. I am well aware that you might lose friends from this. I personally decided that if those "friends" valued Jewish lives so little, they were never my friends to begin with, but it's different for non-Jews. They may genuinely be your friends. I'm not demanding you do this for me or my community, but I am asking you to consider what your line is for your friends. And if you are able to talk to them, to ask them what makes this group different from all other groups in terms of deserving compassion and human rights, it may just help us to quiet the mob.

And, if nothing else, just privately reminding those of us who are speaking about it that we are grounded in reality and compassion helps combat the mass gaslighting going on.

[oathkeeperoxas]

TOP GUN / icemav fic recs part 2

Rec list 1 here

I'm back again with another collection of talented fics from the icemav tag on ao3 - as in the first list I've tried not to repeat authors to get a breadth of talent on show here, but please check out what else these authors have written and give them some love too!

Call Me https://archiveofourown.org/works/41694033/chapters/104590443 by EdwardJay

Ice and Maverick have a rule.

Icemav get together when Ice is an Admiral – featuring responsible Mav picking up Ice when he’s too drunk to drive, and drunk Ice who just wants his long term crush to fuck him on the back of his motorcycle. Very good, and very hot.

Touch, has brought us here https://archiveofourown.org/works/45816259/chapters/115302682 by Inquaire

"The broad smile slipped from the shorter pilot's face, instead replaced with a delicate upturn of the corners of his lips. This felt more private, like it was only for Iceman to see. Yearning flashed, for a brief moment, in both of their eyes and suddenly, one was pulling the other into a hug. When asked later, Ice wouldn't be able to tell who tugged first. All he knew is that there was an almost breathtaking, electrifying aura surrounding them both." Or: what was supposed to be a slightly angsty short about Mav being touch starved, turned into a hurt/comfort ridden story about Ice and his feelings™

Post TG86, with Ice and Mav circling around each other slowly, trying to figure out their feelings – with a bunch of touching while they do so.

The Usually Tearless https://archiveofourown.org/works/39827352 by BigBellRings

Iceman and Maverick, in a better time when they were married, but not an ideal time when they were accepted.

A really interesting exploration of Ice’s family and his relationship with them, and how that impacts his relationship with Mav. With some really good icemav interactions that made my heart melt.

Time to let go https://archiveofourown.org/works/41079648 by AortaArgent

For the wonderful TopGunKinkmeme prompt for old man trans Maverick getting some loving. Shifting on the seat, Maverick puts one hand to the top of his jeans and flicks the button open, passing his thumb over the hard metal edge and toying with his zipper idly. The boxers he’s wearing were a gift from Ice (and for Ice), ones with black mesh up the sides. Riding low on his hips, shimmery black waistband wide and elastic enough for him to tuck his thumb into it and make a good show of snapping it against his lower belly. Ice tilts the bottle up - eyes never leaving Mav’s open jeans - and takes a long drink before wiping his mouth with his thumb. “You’re gonna have to ask me if you want this to go anywhere, baby.”

Trans Mav well what can I say but yes. This is incredibly well written, with the longing and yearning and grief of Mav going off to war yet again with Ice staying behind, and the both of them making the most of this slice of time before they’re separated again.

there's just no getting through, without you, a bottle of rouge (just me and you) https://archiveofourown.org/works/41525490/chapters/104145648 by @victimofthemusic

“C’mon, Ice,” Maverick goads gently, tugging at his hand. “Dance with me.” There’s a challenging glinting in those sea-foam eyes, like he’s daring Ice to say no—like he would ever want to tell this beautiful man no, like he even could—and judging by the victorious smirk he gets when Maverick successfully tugs him to his feet, he knows it, too. Or: Ice, Mav, a bottle of wine, a little Al Green & the house to themselves. You do the math.

So soft and domestic I’m losing my mind a little bit. Very in love icemav, very loving each other icemav, with a romantic evening and even more romantic night.

Small Victories https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791349 by @m-madeleine

Ice and Mav go on a trip, but nothing's ever straightforward when Mav's involved. He'll readily admit that.

This made my heart all soft and achy in a good way – Ice’s caution and yet how he’s willing to take a risk for Mav really ties into how I see their characters, and the author’s set up and pay off is done incredibly well.

something off my chest https://archiveofourown.org/works/39307101/chapters/98363907 by Hyacinthus

Maverick's tired of Ice being in control all the time.

Mav taking the lead, and Ice following where he goes will probably be my favourite icemav dynamic of all time. That plus Ice sucking cock will always be 💯 for me

When The Tide Subsides https://archiveofourown.org/works/43590073/chapters/109600816 by anonymous

Maverick returns home following the events of Top Gun: Maverick battered, exhausted and more than a little bruised. Good thing Tom is there for him, in more ways than one.

Established relationship post Top Gun Maverick reunion soft sex where both Ice and Mav get to roll around in the sensations of being alive and having each other!!

i like the sound of that https://archiveofourown.org/works/42305742 by redwithlove

Ice comes across as stuck-up; he struts around with a stick up his ass, assured of his place as the top dog. There have been enough times where Maverick has butted heads with him and thought about sticking something else up his ass. And now that’s actually happening. Quite literally. Huh. Interesting how things play out.

OP starting the bottom Ice party with this one honestly, and I thank them for it every day. PWP with rimming and Ice getting his mind blown in more than one way.

International Delivery https://archiveofourown.org/works/41196906 by @icemav86

When Ice has to travel for work, Mav surprises him with a gift to help him feel closer to home. Or, Mav gets Ice a custom dildo.

The summary says it all, really. Very in character, very hot, would recommend!

Mutual Orbit https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029385 by @icemankazansky

Going home.

The pining and the ‘together but still working things out’ vibes throughout this are exquisite. This is an incredible character study and view into the icemav relationship at this point in time, with the author absolutely nailing the messy emotions and yearning that these two feel for each other.

sing into my mouth https://archiveofourown.org/works/42778782 by themodernmerlin

"If I have to pick between flying and you, I pick you, every time.”

Ice and Mav celebrate Ice’s remission with dinner and a date and a night holed up together.

[toomanybandstocare]

Congrats on your account anniversary! You’re an awesome person and friend! ✨💕

I’m submitting the .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Sneaking Around request…

with Captain Rex x Reader!

Perhaps something fluffy and sweet? 💓

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖ - Sneaking Around

Drabble for character x reader. @starrylothcat requested something fluffy and sweet with our resident Captain with puppy dog eyes. I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for celebrating with me, an dI so enjoyed chatting and getting to know you, friend <3

Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: 800w

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, Barely proof read

Counselor Note: So sorry this is shorter! I really wanted to write this for you and just share a piece of sunshine fluff with our boi.

-> Celebration Announcement Post <- -> Celebration Masterlist <- -> Camp Resolute Masterlist <-

A warm sea breeze lazily drifts over the beach club as sun beams lightly kiss the skin of vacationers and employees. Cheers and shouts from the shoreline harmonize with the ocean’s rolling waves as children splash around in the crystal blue waters. Parents sit under umbrellas with blankets and coolers of snacks while they keep a careful eye on their kids as they enjoy a moment of relaxation. Other patrons chat excitedly as they wander around the cabanas and different restaurants on the property.

Arching your back with a satisfied hum, you sink further into your lounge chair. Although your movement is limited with the weight of your lover’s body resting on your chest. Rex’s sleeping expression pinches at your movement, and his arms tighten around your waist. 

“Where do you think you’re going,” he asks. His voice thick with sleep now rumbles against your skin with its low vibrato that sends shivers through you.

You peer down at him over your sunnies with an amused expression. “No where, I promise. I was, however, trying to get more comfortable, but it seems like someone’s more concerned about their afternoon nap,” you lightly tease. Rex presses his face into the crook of your neck and groans, which pulls a melodious laugh from you.

The two of you were granted an extended leave after the most recent battle. Without a second thought, Rex started to pack both your bags as he muttered under his breath about everything his commanding officers and brothers put him through with the latest so called plan. As he flew across your room looking for your favorite outfits, you quickly reserved a private cabana for the two of you to hide away and enjoy from prying eyes. Neither of you want to lift a single finger, and both of you made a secret promise to make sure the other didn’t as well.

Rex has never thought too much of what his future would be. The sensitive heart that makes it home in his chest shies away from false hope. After losing so many brothers and close friends, Rex isn’t sure he could survive even one more crack in his tattered heart. Yet when he pulls away from your soft skin, he melts when he meets your adoring expression. Late afternoon sunlight frames you in a breathtaking glow that makes Rex fall in love with you all over again. Only this time it feels like the air is knocked out of him, and Rex falls harder for you. “What would you like to do, hm?” Rex asks as one of his arms slips from your waist and cups your cheek.

Even with the summer heat, you alway find comfort in Rex’s warmth. Leaning into his palm, your eyes flutter shut for a moment as you hum in thought. “How about dinner and drinks? Been here all morning, and we forgot to bring a cooler and our beach bag today,” you muse out loud and look at him once more. Your mind finally slows into a languid peaceful bliss after half a month disconnected from the rest of the galaxy. Never in a rush to get from place to place as you focus on enjoying the taste of normalcy with your riduur.

“Then dinner and drinks, we will find,” Rex agrees with a groan as he pulls away from you. Slipping off the lounge chair, Rex stretches his arms above his head. When he opens his eyes to catch you unabashedly checking him out, Rex’s cheeks blush a deeper red from the already existing sun kiss to his cheeks. “Alright, enough of that. There’ll be plenty of time for whatever daydream you’ve come up with later,” Rex rushes to try and tame the butterflies soaring in a flurry within his stomach. He dips down and loops on arm under your knees as the other rests on your lower back. 

As Rex pulls you up to his chest, your chest sears with excited nerves as laughter falls from your lips. “Rex,” you cry out in giddy disbelief. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rest your head on his shoulder while he begins to walk towards your favorite of the club restaurants. “Please, don’t drop me,” you breathe out. You trust Rex implicitly, but the lingering nerves make you press closer to him.

Rex glances down at you with a soft expression. “I will never drop you, cyar’ika. I’m always going to be there to catch you,” he promises you. Something squeezes at his lungs when you look up at him in utter adoration, and Rex swears to himself that he will always try to keep that expression on your face. Wholly devoted to your wellbeing and happiness, Rex has never felt more at home than he has in this moment.

[the-one-who-lambs]

AO3 Questions Tag Game!

I was tagged by @bamsara (on my main @onethirdofimpossible but most of my readers follow me here for cotl stuff so I'm posting it here)

I tag @i-eat-deodorant and @megsiepoo!

Under the readmore because this is long as shit

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

69 BAYBEEEE

2 – What’s your total AO3 word count?

213,360 words published

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Previously: Pokemon (no longer online), Steven Universe, a few Deep-Sea Prisoner games (Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea, The Grey Garden, Ice Scream)

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Care and Keeping of Eldritch Gods. Until the rewrite of RL/FG is done, this is my magnum opus

Present My first ever CotL fic. This was the first time I'd written fic in like four years and I was dusting off my writing muscles...

Smitten soft narilamb....

Cat(nip) Boy wrote this for shits and giggles in my early fandom days. The One Who Waits on catnip

How Narinder Takes His Tea First part of the old RL/FG series. Though I'm remaking it as a longform multichap fic, I'm keeping up the old series because of the memories + I don't want other people who saved the old one to lose it.

5 – Do you respond to comments?

All the time! I was able to respond to literally every single comment back in 2022, but as last year went on, I realized I probably can't realistically do that anymore. It's a blessing and a curse.

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

We already knew how this would turn out. Title not given directly in my answer in case of spoilers. My readers saw it coming because I had built up to it, but I took my time writing the gradual reveal in the last chapter to make sure it landed the way I wanted it to.

And one more comment I won't post here bc (for anyone who wants to read it) spoils the ending but shoutout to the person who physically felt the shock lurch through their body when the realization hit them after the slow build-up.

As much as I love angsty stories with happy endings, what gets me more are stories that are happy at face value, with endings that are heartwrenching because of the underbelly of what lurked beneath that facade.

7 – What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Risen Lamb and the Fallen God. Bit a spoilers below if you're avoiding that

The original wedding fic (as part of the original series) is up, but it's going to get a good polishing in the rewrite. Lambert and Narinder are going to have a private first dance, Thenana and Narinder are going to have a deeper conversation, Ratau's interactions with Lambert are gonna be shown rather than just told, Aym and Baal will be revived.

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Mostly no. There was one time last year that I was compared to another writer in the fandom and slowly asks evolved into "your own concepts are being done better by others" and shit, and the other writer got hate messages as well, and... well, it was a whole thing. Don't wanna talk too in detail about it because I don't wanna beat a dead horse but cotl writers have unionized so we got the last laugh I guess

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

lol ya it's on remainderofreality. What "kind?" uh. experimental because I'd never tried the genre before this fandom and it kinda shows but that's okay.

10 – Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Honestly, I'm not really into crossovers! Unless it's Webber in cotl. He can stay, he's cute.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah. It was actually the first fic I posted online, ever. In middle school, I wrote a whole ~100k-ish word self-insert pokemon fanfic, which I wrote by hand in like five composition notebooks, so I never posted that online. But after that I decided to post shorter one-shots for pokemon online, and a few months later I found one of mine reposted without credit. Plagiarized entirely, basically. It scared me and I deleted everything I had posted online, and I don't have extra copies of the works now. :(

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I'd be okay with it if I was asked beforehand and proper credit was given!

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yeah! Of Duty and Devotion is basically a glorified roleplay between me as Aym, @i-eat-deodorant as Baal, @checkplzjuliet as The Lamb, and @surfdudeboy as Narinder. I also wrote Hide and Seek, a cute little Bishop family one-shot, with @lordiedams (hi Damien I miss you).

14 – What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Narilamb. I haven't focused on a ship for this long, except maybe Rupphire back in the day, but I'm fixated so much more on CotL than I was for SU.

15 – What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Honestly, Of Duty and Devotion lmao. I'm much more focused on my own projects and so are Pavi, Surf, and Juliet. I do want to finish it though.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

Pacing, diction, syntax, getting the intended point across and doing it well. Once I commit to doing something, I don't usually let myself "give up" on it, hence why I barely have any unfinished WIPs. That's a skill honed with tons of practice, though. I have massive ADHD, and I'm bad at finishing things, but when it comes to writing by god I'm gonna do it.

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

I often struggle to get to a point where I'm totally focused in on what I'm writing. It does happen once or twice a month, but honestly, I'm usually so busy with life stuff that I don't get to do that most of the time! I wish I had more time to make room for my hobbies, but alas. At least summer is coming up, and I'll be able to do that more often, hopefully!

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It's possible to do it naturally for sure, but I rarely see it done well in fic. I've never attempted it...... or, wait, have I? I guess Thenana's sign language counts, huh? ...I feel like I need to do more research about this topic to answer the question properly.

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Pokemon <3

20 – Favorite fic you’ve written?

The Risen Lamb and the Fallen God or The Care and Keeping of Eldritch Gods.

Risen/Fallen (and the enemies-to-lovers narilamb dynamic) was like the first thing that I did to make a "mark" on this fandom, and I didn't expect it to inspire so many people for sure! But, the first iteration of the series was so rushed. I wrote the whole thing in just over three weeks and averaged one chapter published every day and a half. Now that I have a better grasp on the characters after playing with them for a long while, I get to see my improvement, and I get to see so many friends I've made along the way sticking with me, the revamped "director's cut" version is definitely on track to be my favorite work.

However. It has yet to surpass Care and Keeping. As the oldest of four kids in my family, I based so much of Shamura on my experiences as an eldest sibling, and many of the experiences the younger bishops had in their formative years on our own childhoods. I based Narinder's childhood off of brother #1's (brother who is two years younger than me), Kallamar's childhood on my own, Heket's childhood on my sister's (five years younger than me), and Leshy's off of my youngest brother's (ten years younger than me). This story wasn't just an exploration of the Bishops and their dynamic/relationship pre-canon, it's also a testament to my own love as an eldest sibling... and all the anxiety associated with that, too.

Thanks for tagging me! Back to working on my presentation...

[moralesmilesanhourlibrary]

trackmeet (pt. 1 + 2)

summary: you're the top student on the track team until a certain someone beats your record. originally posted: sept. 2, 2019 and sept. 21, 2019, respectively a/n: this was later re-written in 2023! whether it will be completed? who knows...

This was your third time trying out for track. For the past two years, you’d had the fastest time out of everyone on the team. THE fastest. Before the first day of school, you ran laps around the park, around your yard. As per usual, you stretched on the sidelines with others, your water bottle sitting on the gym floor to your right.

Exactly five minutes and forty eight seconds before tryouts began (you were keeping track on your digital watch), a pair of red and white Nike sneakers trip over your water bottle.

“S-sorry,” a disembodied voice chokes out. You cut your eyes at the stumbling figure, but ultimately pay them no mind and return to your stretching routine.

“Alright, everyone line up around the gym, on the gray lines please!”

After various excercises, the coach had everyone meet up on the track outside for a 100-meter dash. You had this in the bag. Tilting your head from side to side and pulling your slender legs behind you, you get in position to sprint.

“GO!”

You practically fly into action. As expected, nearly all of the participants were behind you (and stayed behind you). All except for one. With red and white Nikes.

No matter how much or when you pushed your legs and feet, the kid was way ahead of you. Seeing the coach’s expression of pleasant surprise made you a whole different typa mad. Running was the only thing you could look forward to. Be told you were the best at. It wasn’t fair.

After being dismissed from tryouts, steaming rage boiled in the pit of your stomach and laboured your breathing. Second place. You caught a look at the kid who beat you. He was slender, and about your height, and packing his things to go.

He catches you unintentionally glaring at him and freezes, sheer terror transforming his face. The boys sprints out of the gym, just as fast as he did on the track. Looking down at your watch, you furrow your brows as you realize you were about to be late for dinner, and your mom wouldn’t be too excited about that. Unknowingly, you catch up to the kid outside the entrance of the school, who begins to look around and creep towards the side of an adjacent building, but duck behind the nearest bush before he can turn around and catch you.

Was this stalking? Yes. Was it absolutely necessary? Duh!

You expected him to take out some illegal shit, like performance-enhancing drugs or something, but what you saw made your jaw drop.

The boy climbed the building with his bare hands, then shot some substance from his arm to swing to the next. And the next. And the next.

-

Frustrated as you were about being one-upped at tryouts, the email confirming you’d been selected to be on the team took some of the sting away. What was at the forefront of your thoughts, though, was what you’d witnessed just after.

You had to find that kid.

Making a beeline for the cafeteria, you scanned through the sea of faces for him. In your search, you lose your sense of direction and step back into another body. Whipping around to apologise, you couldn’t believe your luck–he had been right behind you.

“S-SORRY-”

“Excuse me-”

You awkwardly interrupted each other. Before the kid could rush past you, you firmly grab his shoulder and he hesitantly turns to face you again. Banking on his fear, you give the boy the most intense stare you could muster.

“Hey,” You began a little too casually, “can we like, talk?” You look around, “privately?”

Without a word, the boy quickly nods and follows you at your signal to a more discreet corner of the cafeteria. Once the two of you are seated, you give him your best politician smile.

“So, did you make it onto the track team?” you ask, sweetly. The boy relaxes a little. “Y-yeah, I got the email. You?” Nodding, you cut right to the chase, “I have a bit of a hunch, and I need to confirm it.” Once again, the kid you were interrogating tenses.

You pause for a moment to phrase the question, then ask, “how did you swing off of all those buildings yesterday?” You’re almost amused at the sheer horror that took over the boy’s face. Before he can answer, the bell rings and students begin streaming through the double doors of the cafeteria to get to class.

You watch the new Spider-Man swing through Brooklyn every evening on television, or as you were walking home, if you were really lucky. You began to recognize the way he practically flew from building to building. It was the same way that boy suddenly launched himself up onto skyscrapers–the same hand motion, too. The look on his face told you your intuition was correct. Being Spider-Man more than likely gave him some kind of athletic advantage.

Knowing this made you feel a little better about your own running abilities.

[adulting-sucks]

How can a 41 yr old not comprehend the fact that the people who you are around with as in friends and dating and hang out with and is everything. Its like high school cliques. People of like minds and view always hang out together otherwise why are you hanging out and are together.

I knoenthere are so many fans out there that like myself that can't support or be a fan of someone who supports racism anti semitism and homophobia or being fat phobic.

He did Red Sea Diving Resort i hope he got a angry call or text from the director and producers and the writer of the book for now supporting and being with antisemitic people. He shitted on them and Jews. I'm happy for Jenny that she got away from him.

If it was PR move so netflix will give him the Gene Kelly project in exchange for free warrior nun pr -it was the worst move of his career. Some one on a blog said the Mario cart video was to humiliate her or looked it- is his version of crying for help or maybe he's an asshole and were finally seeing him for who he is.

If he actual is dating her and choosing to hang out with her friends too and not having extra ppl there cause he can't stand to be alone with her its just sad to see he lied about caring about so many diffrent things

.. (nothing about age idc about that once you're 18 it doesn't matter legally. Dicaprio has had an age thing for forever and that's the difference he doesn't date someone whose views are disgusting and hateful)

I wonder how Scott feels about her, given homopbobia she and her friends have shown.

Agree. We are absolutely reflections of who we spend our time with. My close friends are very like minded to my same values and thoughts. I will cut people off, no hesitation who bring turmoil to that part of my world.

Don’t get me wrong, I get along with my coworkers because it makes my work life easier, but outside of work, it’s a non issue because I don’t allow them into that area.

PR probably works so much differently than we even know, but you are absolutely correct in saying this has been the worst move of his career. I don’t buy into this being real. I’ve flipped and flopped, but seeing the pap walk and WDW in action along with the absolute forced and manufactured feel of the IG stories cemented me in this is not real.

He’s always been private and protective of the ones he cares about. That’s what is so different about this. It is being forced out in overkill because there’s no need to address every single issue we’ve discussed with pictures.

That being said, it in no way excuses what’s happened now. Do I think he woke up and just said fuck this, I no longer care about racism, antisemitism, body shaming because look at this pussy!? No. I don’t. But by continuing this charade and allowing his team to double down instead of addressing any of this is a massive mistake. As I’ve said, this has become the ultimate fuck you to those of us who still attempted to see the good in him. We’ve been told we don’t fucking matter and what he’s fought against was purely for his own agenda.

He is losing massive amounts of his fan base, and at first I’m sure no one batted an eye. We’re crazy, remember? But look what went along with that. He is consistently called out on all posts and comments. He may not read every single one, but he still has to have some idea of what’s being said. I cannot imagine anyone would be okay with being perceived the way he is right now without it affecting him somehow.

So here we are: he’s now set to do two Comic-con appearances, trying to attach his image back to that of Steve Rogers, and not the person he is currently. Now he has to try and win back some of his fans. Who knows, Seb managed to bounce back from Ale, but he also has worked tirelessly to show his fans he’s not what they thought he was. I don’t know if Evans will do that. I hope so.

We know how his mother feels. Scott has barely interacted with them at all, he unfollowed Justin early on and never really commented on her shit before she ran away. But to see this distance, this schism in the relationship between him and his family, that’s the saddest part to me. I would love to believe he would never be with someone as vile as she is, and that he would never subject his family to that. And to an extent, we’ve seen that. They’re always isolated in pictures and videos. We don’t see her in any family photos and that’s pretty telling also.

As far as him humiliating her? I have not one ounce of anything for her. If he is humiliating her, I couldn’t care less. I may sound like a giant bitch for this, but she lied about a traumatic event to garner attention. I actually at one point did feel some sympathy for her, seeing how her family and friends exploited her in her career. But she pulled that fake kidnapping story, and any ounce of good will or sympathy I had was gone.

That was beyond reprehensible. Beyond disgusting. Add that in to what we see now and know, she deserves every bit of karma and bad energy she gets. She is a master manipulator, she has used every trick to stay relevant and manipulate her fans and this fandom, and she deserves to receive whatever karmic payback she’s got coming.

[jethashtag]

Golf Hashtags – Best #Golf Hashtags For Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, And Facebook 2023

As we have said, the one factor that binds all the applications and creates a connection between them is the hashtags you will use; some individuals and users may ask what even a hashtag is.

Let’s answer that question first.

Hashtags are a method they are a type of REQUEST factor which gets sent to the server and then comes back in the form of information regarding the request you have sent.

In simpler terms, imagine that you search the hashtag “#music” this hashtag gets sent to the server, and this request retrieves the information and content regarding the word “music.”

In other words, using hashtags can be a way of organizing the content in a safe space without losing them; remember that when you use these hashtags, you are also joining this mass of information on the server.

If you have given enough access, everyone that uses that hashtag will also see your content among the number of others that have used the same hashtag.

On each social site, the use of hashtags is handled somewhat differently.

There might be some restrictions like Instagram that you should not use more than 30 hashtags in a single content or post because it can lead to spamming all of the hashtags, and then none will work properly.

So based on the application and the platform you are using, you must utilize and manage the hashtags you use.

You also have to avoid specific hashtags that can be offensive or violent to some users because it is a compassionate matter.

Now that you know what hashtags are and how to use them let’s get to the next section of the article and talk about the best Golf hashtags on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook.

We shall move on.

When using hashtags, ensure that the hashtags you are inserting into your content are close and related to the content you are sharing.

You must identify the best hashtags for that specific field of work and statement.

The second factor you must remember is that when you use hashtags, ensure that you keep the number of hashtags at an average rate, meaning that you should use limited hashtags.

That way, not only will your post and material be protected from being spammed, but the two of you will also be able to deliver your content more privately.

And the last factor you have to know about is that when you try to choose hashtags, make sure that you select the ones with fewer contributions; we know that you might be confused. Still, because the contribution volume is less in the hashtags, your content will be seen more and will not get lost in the sea of contents.

By this point of the article, you know the best Golf hashtags for Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook, and you know how to use them properly; now, let’s get to the end of the article and finish the statement after all.

[rainymunson]

Eddie Munson Rec List

(work in progress)

none of these are mine! just sharing AMAZING collections and works i have found by incredible blogs on here :)

audio links (nsfw):

one

two

three

joe

four

headcanons:

cuddling

virgin!eddie

losing ur v

nsfw alphabet

vampire!eddie

dating

(another) nsfw abc’s

masterlists/rec lists

erosso

chaoticvigilantes

indouloureux

munsons-maiden

iwritefandomimagines

n0agranger

natti-ice

xcatnapsx

honeymunson (pt1)

one shots:

blood lust

you made me hate this city

bad idea - one last year. one last hurrah. hawkins high’s yearly senior camping trip is full of sentiment, and full of surprises. eddie definitely did not expect a night of confessions with his best friend, and definitely did not expect to end up naked with her.

don't tell steve - you’re steve’s younger sister and you’ve been secretly dating eddie. when eddie goes missing, you’re the only one who knows where he is.

Good Vibes - Eddie is your best friend and happens to accidentally come across your vibrator.

Purity ring - When Mrs. Thompson told me that I would have to tutor Eddie Munson, I never would have expected that I would be in his trailer on a Saturday night. Even if I don’t like to admit it, there is some tension between us. His constant flirty comments against my harsh responses have built up something between us. He is the one to make the first move.

girl with the tattoo - eddie pays for your first tattoo without knowing what it is you’re getting. when you finally show him, he practically flips his shit.

out of exile - jason fucking carver picked the wrong girl to go after in his search for chrissy’s killer, and eddie’s done running.

hawkins-losers request - How about some slow sweet, early mornin' loving for our Eddie boy? Or on the other side, dirty rough bathroom stall at a concert smut?

Save a Prayer ('til the morning after) - you and Eddie know you have to go back into the upside down to save Nancy, and so you spend one final night together before certain doom…

don't you dare - you and eddie have a private moment before going into the final battle against vecna

vampire!eddie: (i know. just, hear me out-)

bloodthirsty - He came to you only at night, your Eddie. Well you supposed he wasn’t quite your Eddie anymore. He was different, changed. 

series:

worlds apart - THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story will be told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

promises, promises - Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

fix it fics:

i always will -  in the midst of catastrophe and sorrow, hidden feelings are revealed.

eddiesbug request - eddie doesn't die, but he just barely makes it, and visiting him in the hospital with his favorite music and foods and giving him soft cuddles and yeah

“If I get to live a million other lives, I hope I get to love you in all of them.” - A quickly, sloppily written angsty + fluffy fix-it fic I cranked out in one sitting because this is my therapy in a post st4 vol2 world. This was written quickly and quickly proofread by a very tired me, so definitely not my best work but something I just wanted to get out in the open for everyone! Enjoy.

family video - robin and steve were able to snag eddie munson a job at Family Video and it just so happens that the person of his dreams would be a regular customer.

wake up - You and Dustin gets Eddie out of the Upside Down. He is now in a coma 

fade into you - this is definitely just a fix it fic for vol 2 because i miss my baby ):

I thought we weren't supposed to be heroes - Eddie cuts the rope that connects the real world with the upside-down to buy more time and you and Dustin find a way to reach him anyway.

“Why the hell would you say something like that?” - instead of the shitty ending we got, he’s gonna live in this fic. you’re welcome&lt;3

Say you'll still be by my side - Eddie made it out of the Upside Down, barely alive. He’s in a coma now but you refuse to let him go.

Hawkins' Hero - Eddie risks his life trying to be a hero. What he doesn’t realize, is that, he’s always been your hero.

Liquid Smooth - eddie’s nightmares corrode his nights for the past two weeks. with guilt overwhelming his healing wounds, you let your boyfriend talk to you as a cathartic release.

It Can't Be - Nothing on earth will ever take Eddie Munson away from you, not even an army of bloodthirsty, flesh-eating demobats in the Upside Down.

[imaginearyparties]

a message for new users:

tumblr isn't like a lot of sites you're used to. if you're younger than i am (and it seems like a good deal of you are) you're probably used to social media sites that throw anything at you to get your attention. sites with algorithms that show you stuff they think you want to see. sites with verification and visible follower counts, so that you can see who is important. sites where you're expected to consume content, and not necessarily to create it. those sites are fun, and it's totally valid that you've learned to engage with them in the ways that you have. but it's not like that here.

a lot of you might be too young to remember when blogs were a mainstay of the internet. basically, people had their own little website where they posted stuff they made (usually writing), often centered around a specific topic or theme. so like, cooking blogs, poetry blogs, parenting blogs, etc. tumblr came about as a way to combine the individual expression of a blog with some of the more social aspects of social media. this way, you could post your own stuff to your blog, but you could also collect cool stuff you liked by reblogging. and then your blog was this cool hybrid of stuff you made and stuff you liked. and you could go find the cool stuff again, because it was on your blog.

you see, tumblr wasn't built for users to be audience members. tumblr was built for creators, and eventually became really well known for the way it cultivated communities. especially fan communities. part of why this worked well is because almost everyone participated. people shared their thoughts and cool stuff they made, they reblogged stuff they liked, maybe even added on to it or talked about why they liked it so much. when we talk about 2014 tumblr and how cool it was, (it wasn't but, y'know, nostalgia), part of that was how a lot of us were teenagers and young people on a site that let us make friends and build communities, where we could completely cultivate our own experience.

being on tumblr without participating in tumblr is kind of like having your camera and microphone off on a zoom call. yeah, we see that you're here. maybe you like a post sometimes, sort of like using the zoom thumbs up. but you're basically a ghost. and it's sad, because we want to hang out in cool little communities, but it feels like we're talking to a sea of faceless voids who don't respond.

when current users say that they want to scare off twitter and tiktok users, or people who make stuff complain about the lack of reblogs or comments, this is why. we're losing the communal aspect of tumblr that made it so great. more and more, users have no profile picture, blank blog titles, and are private or have no posts. they like posts instead of reblogging them. they don't engage. they're audience members. they're blank zoom squares. you feel like you're talking to no one, and it's sad.

so i beg of you, please engage. please reblog that story you liked, and tell the author the one line that made you squeal in the text of the reblog. please reblog that cool gifset you saw, and tell op that the colors are pretty. please reblog that cool art and let the artist know that you wish you could get it tattooed. and, above all, please make your own posts. talk about the weather today, write that story that's been in your head for a few weeks, make fan art of characters from two different shows making out, say something so weird it ends up screenshotted in a "cryptid vibes"pinterest board. send an ask to a user who's been around a while and ask them about the skeleton wars.

this is one of the only spaces left that isn't selling you something, that isn't trying to keep your eyes on it by any means necessary. this is one of the only spaces left that doesn't want you to be an audience member. so please, don't kill this space by refusing to take part in it.

welcome to tumblr. i hope you get the most out of being here that you can.

[lexiasmind]

The Compromise VI.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Hard choices have been made for love. But where and when will it stop? Does the signature of your name on official papers isn’t enough? Or will these Rogers men be finally satisfied when they will own your soul and ruined you completely?

(please read EVERYTHING) 

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST (i’m sorry). 

TRIGGER WARNING : Depiction and mention of RAPE (18+only, please do not read if it’s not ok with you). Swearing. 

Here it is, (finally) the six installment of The Compromise Series. I’m sorry it took me so long but hopefully, I’m fully back and will keep writing and posting about this series, regularly. I hope you liked this part even though it took a darker route. Again, do not read if you are not ok with it. As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback.

P.S: Gif is not mine, credits to the owner and maker.

A lots of Love! Lex!xx

WORDS.3353ish.

°°°

Putting your phone on your dresser face down, you peered at Steve frowning at his phone in his hands. You shut quietly the door behind you, leaning against it, your eyes roaming your boss's face. Saying Steve Rogers was handsome was just a mere statement. The man is drop-dead gorgeous. A kind of handsomeness that would make any smart girls lose their panties over it. Blue eyes as clear as the sea, with long eyelashes that would make any woman jealous. A straight nose and dark blond hair as smooth as silk. Hair you liked to pass your fingers through when the man was making love to you. Tender and soft. Steve Rogers was Prince Charming on paper, but his soul and personality had nothing like the man portrayed in the Disney movies. He was a lot. Maybe too much. Someone you didn't want to angered or disobeyed too. Steve Rogers was an asshole. Even if he claimed he had issues and that you appeased him. Which made him love you - emotions you doubted someone like Steve could ever feel - and made him choose you to be his bride for him to gain enough money to merge his company with one of the most successful business of the country. Clearly, love doesn't know boundaries, right?

" Will you stop watching me like a creep? " You heard him groaned without raising his eyes from his screen. " Where do I sign? " You answered before letting a small sigh escape your dry lips, your eyes cast down on your bedroom's floor.

A wolfish smile slowly appeared on the blond-man lips. Four words. It was only four little words that would change your life forever. Deep down you knew that as you pronounced those words everything will never be the same. Never. Ever.  

°°°

" Don't worry about us. We will be ok. " were the last words your mom said to you before you left. You had assured her again and again that you had a plan about the money and she made you swear to not say a word to your father about it. You loved him with all your heart and you knew she was right. He was a lot of things, protective, selfless but like the man you were about to marry he had a big ego. You decided with your mother that she would lie to him in order to protect and maybe save him. Giving him at least, a fighting chance.

" Are you still mad? " Steve asked interrupting your thoughts, seating next to you he had his laptop open on his knees, his eyes were turned to you.

Crossing your arms on your chest, your purposeful ignore him watching the scenery behind the car's window. He gave you an ultimatum. Two days with your parents and then you both had to fly back to the East Coast to deliver the marriage certificate before he expired. He also wanted to meet with Tony now that the money his father had promised him was safe on one of the many Rogers Inc. bank accounts. A picture of your signature made him transfer without any questions but you knew your own e-mail laid the groundwork.

" There are my parents. " You mumbled annoyed while you watched the gates of the private airport open.

The car advances smoothly into the exclusive parking, Steve's airplane was on the ground a few feet away. Three people were turning around it, preparing the engines, and fueling it up. The noise echoed inside the black SUV.

" Right. " Steve sighed. " And, you will see them in one week when we are getting married. " He announced to you shutting the computer, annoyed.

What if it's not enough. What if something happened? Wait, one what?

" When did you decide the date of our marriage? " You frowned turning your head to look at him. " An hour ago. " He smirked fastened his jacket's buttons. " When you were too preoccupied and giving me the cold shoulder. " " And I don't have to say in the matter? " You inquired shocked but not surprised by his decision. " After all, it's also my wedding? " " No, you don't. " Steve leaned toward you giving a quick kiss on your cheek before he turned his back and once the car stopped, he opened the door, the noise of the aircraft growing stronger. " I have one morning free on the 18th before I leave for Oslo. " He said before stepping outside.

Your fiancee shut the door harshly, cutting the conversation. Speaking to the driver, his voice was loud barely making it out above the engines' noise. You watched them starting to make their way to the plane without waiting for you. You sighed loudly, thinking about the millions of things you have to do now that the date of your own wedding was imposed on you. You quickly stepped out of the empty car, taking hold of your phone in your hands. You gave a polite smile to the worker that was taking care of your bags and stuff to pack them inside the plane as you walked toward the stairs. Quickly typing a message to your parents, lying through your teeth about your relationship, you reminded yourself that you were doing it for a good cause. Love.

" Ma'am. " The driver saluted you with a smile. " Bye. " You smiled back watching him walk back to the car.

Eyes on your phone you were about to step on the stairs but a hand on your arm blocked you on your spot. You gasped in surprise before raising your eyes to meet Steve's. Titling his body toward yours he made you lean against the ramp behind you, trapping you.

" Stop being mad. " Steve urged you brushing his nose with yours. His voice was calm but you could discern his anger inside his burning eyes. " It's just a party. " " Oh, so if it's just a party? " You asked innocently with a grin on your face. " Do you think your mom will come? " Steve's eyes started to burn with rage, his nostrils flaring. " Will she be allow to come to see her only son getting married to his secretary he liked to fuck at this party? " You continued taunting him, tilting your head to the side.

You felt the grasp on you burning your skin. There were no big stakes when you had a professional relationship and were occasional fuck-buddies. He was a dick in both situations but a dick who will leave you alone once you were at home. Alone. Now that you had agreed to do this marriage thing, nothing will keep him to be an asshole every time he wanted. But you had to make a choice when the ink of your name dried off on the marriage certificate.   It's either fight or let him destroy you, piece by piece. The flight option wasn't the answer any longer.

" You're hurting me. " You murmured to him, your mouth was inches away from his. He started to breathe loudly, his eyes traveling back and forth between your lips and eyes. " I know. " Steve let out a breath, pinning you down against the stairs.

You felt the discreet glance from the staff around you, working slowly avoiding to look your way. Everyone who worked with your fiancee had signed a long and well-worded NDA, but you could sense their uneasiness around you. Not knowing if they needed to intervene or not. The blond man in front of you pressed a chaste kiss on your lips, dropping his fingers from your arm. The release of his hold made you close your eyes briefly, relieved, your body relaxed even though you could feel a bruise where his fingers grasped you.

" Don't ever mention her to me. " He murmured, his voice cold and his blue eyes colder, icy blue before he turned his back to you and started to climb the stairs leading to the luxious airplane.

Biting your lips, you gently touched your arm, watching him go through, your sight blurry with tears. Uncertain but determined, you strongly force yourself to not cry as you stepped up to join him inside. It was only the beginning but you knew that you made plans and had already launched the machine without any way of stopping it. For love.

°°°

" M.Rogers will see you in a moment. " The maid announced to you with a smile.

Closing the big wooden door behind you, your gaze at the high ceiling and double staircase in the immense hall of the Hampton mansion. You raised your head admiring the details of the chandelier without noticing the housemaid leaving you alone in Steve's childhood home. Taking advantage of Steve's meeting with his banker after you landed in New York, you slipped away. Making sure to take a cheap Uber to the high and exclusive neighborhood. Admiring the paintings on the walls, certainly original you started to walk slowly inside the huge house. Admiring the colors on the canvas you didn't watch where you headed out until you arrived inside another room.  Stopping on the threshold, you were suddenly blinded by the sunset coming through the big French windows. As your eyes adjusted to the light you remarked a silhouette seating in a wheelchair. The room was fully furnished and decorated with other pieces of artwork and well-kept plants but the pale woman seating alone, her blue eyes unfocused on the wooden floor, didn't seem to belong inside the bright and colorful room. Her eyes were sullen and vacant, she was wearing clothes too big for her thin frame, her blondish hair was knightly tied into a high bun. She appeared sick but also a shadow of herself. Like a bulldozer passed through her years ago, sucking every ounce of energy she had. A bulldozer or a man.

" You're Sarah. " You murmured watching her from afar, surprised, a bit uncomfortable but also sad remembering everything Steve had told you about his mother's fate. " Steve's mum. "

At the mention of the name of her son, the woman glanced up, looking at you without really watching you. Her blue eyes were still unfocused and cold.

" Here you are. "  A loud voice made you jump, startling you. Turning your back to his wife, you watched the man walk toward you, a grin on his lips. " I see you met my lovely wife. " The patriarch smiled grew with fake enthusiasm.

You turned your head above your shoulder only to see the housemaid that greeted you wheeling away the poor woman into another room. She closed tightly the double white doors behind her, leaving you with…

" I'm happy you came to your senses Mrs…" Steve Sr. trailed off stepping around you to reach the little alcove where shelves of high-end alcohol in crystal bottles stood. " It's Y/N. " You told him watching him poured some dark liquid beverage into a glass. He pointed to the bottle in his hand. You shook your head.

It wouldn't be smart nor wise to drink with a man like your fiancee's dad. Especially know that you knew how he treated his wife. What did he do to her?

" As much as I tolerate my son, " Steven Sr put down the bottle next to the other ones before he started to pace in front of the windows, his blue eyes gleaming with disdain. " He's… " The man mused looking inside his glass.

Handful? Asshole? Violent? Sexually deviant? You enumerated in your head crossing your arms on your chest.

" Incompetent. " He finally choose, glancing up at you and raising his glass to take a sip. " He's not. " You frowned thinking about every strategic choice you watched Steve make for his company over the years.

He was always taking bold and intelligent decision for his business. Planning, expanding and recruiting the best of the best employees. He was always ahead in the chess games that are managing a successful firm in the 21st century in the very busy and unpredictable New York scene. Steve Sr raised an eyebrow in front of your little outburst, his eyes watching you. You take a step back turning your eyes toward the closed white doors. Maybe defending his son wasn't the best way to approach the man who despised him.

" That's interesting. " He mused, frowning his eyes, watching you with interest. " Judging by your bravery to marry him, your loyalty for being his assistant despite his character. You choose to defend him even though he can be a real asshole when he wants to. " The patriarch analyzed taking steps toward you.

You stood your ground not looking at him, fear growing inside your stomach. You knew before coming here that it would be a power play. And too much was on the line for you to lose.

" It seems like you like him. Maybe are in love with him. " " I'm not. " You exclaimed meeting his amused blue eyes.

Standing a few feet away from you, a smile appeared on the man's lips, tilting his head to the side he raised his glass to his mouth. You tried to compose yourself after your little outburst, glancing away from those sea colored eyes that reminded you of Steve's. Maybe, at one point, you felt something toward the man you were about to marry. Especially in the sweet moments where your body was curled around him, and he made you feel good, sexy, and cherished for a few blissful hours. But now? Now everything is not the same.

" I'm not in love with your son. " You said to the man calmly. " Good. " He put his glass down on the white chimney mantel with a loud noise before reaching for his breast pocket inside his dark blue jacket. " Loving him will only bring you pain and ruin, Mrs. Y/N. " He picked up a folded document to offer you to take. Reaching for it, your fingers brushed his own.

With a swift movement, Steven Sr took hold of your wrist. Pulling you toward him with force you bumped your chest against his, bewildered.

" A beautiful woman like you should be only ravaged on a bed in the carnal sense of the term. " He murmured leaning his head toward yours.

You forced yourself to not look up, taken aback by his behavior and words.   Breathing quickly you licked your dry lips, confusion, and shock filling your guts. His lips were only a mere inches away from your cheeks before you pushed forcefully and take a step back toward a small table on the corner. Deciding to ignore his comments and his transgression, you took a pen that was lying around. You heard him chuckle, his voice echoing in now the semi-dark room. The sun had almost disappeared behind the windows, leaving only a sole lamp illuminating the place.

" I trusted you did the necessary modification to the contract concerning the numbers. " You voice wavered a little as you tried to concentrate on the words on the sheet, turning the multiple pages to reach the numbers that would be transferred to your bank account.

You tried as much you could to gain confidence and deleted the moment that occurred from your brain. His wife was in the room next door for Pete's sake. What is wrong with him?!?

" I did. " You heard the smile on his voice even though your back was turned to him. " And I also, add what you asked for. Discretion about our arrangement. "

Finally reaching the page with the numbers you swallowed hard, your hands hovering over the last line at the bottom. Another signature. Another sealed of fate. Focusing on the multiple thoughts emerging inside your head, you didn't hear him moving behind you. Steven Sr placed his hand around your waist making you falter on your feet his other hand pinching hard your ass before stroking you above your jeans.

" W-What are your doing? " You stuttered confused, your hands trembling above the contract. He pressed your back against his chest, tilting his head against the crook of your neck. " Stop. " You sputtered moving your head away from his mouth. " I can think of another nice compensation you could earn in addition to this one, Y/N. " The man started to kiss your neck, embracing you more tightly against his body even though you try to push your frame away from him. His cold lips making you shivered with disgust and fear. He raised his hand up to caress your chest. " More money for you. " He continued whispering against your skin, his lips brushing your throat making you tremble.

You tried to spin, holding unto his forearms to push his touch away from you. But his hold on you was strong. He gripped you more firmly against him.

" Stop. " You groaned starting to get annoyed by his behavior, a scary feeling creeping inside your belly. Would he?

" You have a wife. " You muttered pulling on his arms. " On paper only. How much for you to also have me? " He whispered continuing to let open mouth kisses on your skin, his fingers stroking your breast, gently.

What? No!

" Please. Stop. " You grunted through your teeth, frightened to your core. " Why are you doing this? " You shook your head, using your nails to scratch his hand, trying to draw him away from you. But he only groaned at your touch, thrusting his hips against your ass.  " I thought you wanted me to marry your son and have his children. " You bite your lower lip, hard, chocking on your words, closing your eyes.

This can't be happening!

" His or mine. What's the difference? " Steve Sr mumbled before biting your skin.

F-F-or love?

°°°

" Where were you? " " Out. "

You threw your coat on the kitchen table. You quickly removed your shoes before taking hold of Steve's cheek between your hands and pressing a firm kiss on his lips. Night had fallen on the city of New York. The living room of his penthouse was dark with only the light of the street below lighting up the large room. The blond man kissed you for a moment only to push his head away from your devouring mouth. Frowning a little he watched you undressed quickly in front of him.

" Y/N, w-what wrong? " Steve asked you stammering a bit, confused by your odd and very forward behavior.  " Nothing. " You smiled broadly, hiding deep down all your emotions behind an iron mask. You reached for his waist starting to unbuckle his belt. " I just want you to make love to me. " You affirmed to him, biting your lower lip seductively, a glint of want in your eyes. " Show me that you love me as you said. "

Steve frowned only deepening on his face watching you, bewildered. But as you took hold of his semi-hard on inside his pants, he let a moan escape his lips, closing his eyes.

" I want to feel you inside me. " You murmured taking a step toward him to press your chest against his. His scent enveloping you, fresh and woodsy. Comforting. Familiar. You increase the movement of your hand on his hard shaft, smooth under your fingers. " I want you to make me come. " You continued, tilting your face up, pushing a kiss on his jaw. " I want you, Steve. "

Opening his dark blue eyes, you could see desire and wants on his face. He hugged you close, his arms around your hips his warmth calming your beating heart inside your chest. Pinning you closer to him, you increased the speed of your hand inside his jeans.

" I can do that. " The blond man murmured before pressing a kiss on your lips, moaning low against your mouth when your fingers stroked the head of his swelling cock.

Make me forget. For love. With love?  

°°°

Seventh.

Tags: @chvntelle-99 @iloveshawnieboi​ @rebekahdawkins​ @preciouscupcake​ @dorothea-hwldr @onlyvisuallybasic​ @accioparadise​ @mandiiblanche​ @undecidedsworld @biiskuitx​ @mansaayyy-blog​ @tinynshykitten​  @mogaruke​ @roxyfan14-blog​ @v-crazyparawhore-v​ @wanessalopesqueiros​ @ntthuyy25​ @vampy-doll​ @carrotfantasimp​ @syrenavenger​ @donutloverxo​ @dontbescaredtosingalong​ @what-is-your-wish​

[catalists]

Chrome’s shadowgast fic rec list, vol 1

Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own obsession with wizards. I might make another one of these eventually if y’all keep churning out absolute bangers, but in the meantime, here is a list of my top Shadowgast fic recs.

One rule here: I’m limiting this to one fic per author--but many people on this list have a broader oeuvre you should definitely check out.

Your disclaimer: this is not a full literature review, but rather my personal favorites. Caveat lector!

* = fic is rated M or E

sleeping in the shadow of an other self by nonwal | @nonwal

Essek has a moment to consider that gravity-based trust exercises have never worked for him, and then the spell hits. He leans back into it, falls, falls.

(In which Essek is resurrected by the Mighty Nein and framed for innocence.)

Okay, listen. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out. There’s a reason it’s at the top of the list. 30k of absolutely phenomenal characterization of not only Shadowgast but all the M9 and the coolest plot to ever plot. Not only a fantastic first read, but a phenomenal re-read as well.

multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance by mousecookie | @ariadne-mouse

Caleb takes a step forward and stumbles.  As he catches himself he realizes something very odd.  His hands are shadowy and translucent.  His whole body is a shadow, in fact.  If he holds his palm up to the sky, he can see the stars twinkling faintly through it.

Sharp talons of panic dig into his chest.  He feels solid - if he grabs his own wrist, he has mass, but it is wrong.  Everything is wrong.  What is happening?

Prepare Fireball, commands a voice in his head.  

The voice is familiar.  

It takes him a moment to realize it’s familiar because it’s his.

An absolutely fabulous pre-relationship fic, written before the end of the show but you wouldn’t know it from how perfectly it nails the dynamic. Ariadne has written a ton of other fabulous Shadowgast fics and I encourage you to read them all--I’m just limiting this list to one fic per author to try and cover more ground.

Great Minds by bluebirdsongs

Essek uses more high-level dunamancy in battle, and Caleb tries to reverse-engineer it when he can't sleep. AKA What if we were both wizards and I cast Tether Essence on us to save your life?

This is a gorgeous fic, both for how it handles Caleb and Essek’s conversation--with profound deftness--and for the treatment of magic-as-math. A beautiful exploration of both dunamancy and Caleb and Essek.

to make a cradle of your palm* by renquise

Essek offers Caleb his spellbook, open to the page of a new spell.

As Caleb suspected, his adaptation of Essek's gravity spell was different in its conception, for all that the result was the same. The architecture of this similar spell speaks of a different thought process, a different set of basic assumptions. It is beautifully engineered, efficient in its use of components and energy: a simple spell requiring only a length of silk thread and yet capable of reaching over a great distance and causing great damage, if applied with intent to harm.

“If you would like, you can, ah. You may—" Essek gestures at his own throat, a quick, inelegant spread of fingers. "Test the application of pressure that the spell exerts."

It takes Caleb a moment to register what Essek is proposing. He is a delicate speaker, as always.

Oh man, this one just goes for the jugular (ha) in the most perfect way. The prose here, like everything renquise writes, is absolutely masterful, and the tension between Caleb and Essek is exquisitely rendered.

fist-fighting with fire just to get close to you by kaeda | @the-kaedageist

Caleb caught Essek’s eye across the dome, and Essek returned his small smile. “It would seem that it is trickier than expected to keep things on a…private channel,” Essek thought at him.

“Unfortunately,” Caleb replied.

“Unfortunately for all of us,” Fjord interjected.

(Spoilers for campaign 2, episode 138)

Kate has a fabulous gift for getting the Mighty Nein’s voices exactly right, and this fic is no exception. This takes the hive mind/telepathy of the eyes to its hilarious, heart-warming, logical conclusion and it’s an absolute joy to read.

(perhaps i may) elaborate by demonstration* by marsastronomica | @marsastronomica

After the second fight, they rest again. There’s still time left in the day, and they may as well push as far as they can. Essek and Caleb find time between action to talk. And negotiate.

This one is an absolute banger. The flirting! The tension! The incredible intense game of chicken that Essek and Caleb are playing this whole fic...it’s amazing, you can hear the dialogue in their voices, this is another one that I read and then had to tell everyone about. And now I’m telling you about. Go read it, it kicks ass.

I’ve been lost before (and I’m lost again, I guess)* by toneofjoy

Caleb has plans to take down his old coaches. Essek has secrets. They climb rocks, make new friends, explore professional boundaries, learn about consequences, and maybe even fall in love. It’s the Shadowgast climbing AU.

AUs can be a tough sell for me, but this one’s not. Half the joy in this is the fabulously vivid world that is built by the author who absolutely knows the ins and outs of competitive climbing and expertly shares it with the reader. The other half is the beautiful growing relationship between Caleb and Essek, which is a consistent joy to read. It’s still a WIP, but I promise it’s worth reading along.

the other things that make us* by saturday_sky | @saturdaysky

Essek returns, when he can, to the sanctuary of Caleb's home. The peace of it is a balm against the tedious peril of the road, which has more misery to share than Essek had ever thought. It's nice to have a place where he can lose himself: in a book, in arcane study, in the confusing allure of Caleb's smile.

It's nice. And the cats miss him, Caleb says.

[First chapter is a complete story. Second chapter will be a follow-up epilogue to it.]

This one hurts in the best possible way. I can’t highlight my favorite bits without giving it away, but the emotional beats of this absolutely beautiful post-canon fic are top-notch and the reveal of information is perfectly executed.

darkness to me is only water to the sea by treeviality

Essek knows how his story ends. There is a place in Rexxentrum where executions are carried out, wooden steps leading up to a wooden platform. There hangs a noose, swaying lightly in northern wind, while polished cobblestones shine bright in golden light.  

There will be birds, Essek imagines, and when the lever is pulled and gravity takes hold of him one last time, he hopes they take flight.

This now-AU take on Essek being arrested is lyrical and beautiful and the author has a tremendous grasp of language and also how to rip your heart straight out of your chest and then gently replace it.

---

And, if you’re still looking for fic, I have a few, but one of my favorites is:

we never do go over (we always gotta go through) by Chrome

In the last fight with the Tombtakers, Essek Thelyss bends reality to keep them all alive and pays the price. As he copes with the aftereffects of his own magic and the party takes the long journey back to the surface, Essek and Caleb finally confront what they are to each other.

or,

Five times Essek woke up with level(s) of exhaustion and one time he didn't.

[xxblackballoonxx]

Maybe That Was New York: Part 3

This is a work of fiction.

So apparently I'm continuing this! I don't know if this story will be updated regularly, as of now I plan to update it as it comes to me. Also, the man is too beautiful, the above photo is just 😍😍😍

This Sunday marks the 21st anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks. I couldn’t post a story about New York this week without paying respect to that. I know many younger people may not understand the profound changes this event had on the entire world, not just New York and not just the United States. It profoundly changed me, personally. It is a day to remember and mourn the 2,977 people killed on 9/11 and the over 4,000 that have been lost since to 9/11 related illnesses. Moments of silence will be held at: 8:46 am, 9:03 am, 9:37 am, 9:59 am, 10:03 am, 10:28 am EST. Never forget.

I am open to private and respectful conversations regarding 9/11. Any negative or disparaging comments towards those we lost will not be tolerated.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Maybe That Was New York: Part 3

Joe woke up to lightning flickering through the half closed curtains, the sky dark and city lights dimly light through the pouring rain. He reached across Jenny, who was still sleeping, to check his phone. It was just after 9 am but felt like the middle of the night.

"Time is it?" Jenny mumbled, reaching out for his hand.

"A little after nine. Nasty storm going on." Joe replied.

He laid back down, smiling to himself as she held his hand close to her chest. He could feel her breathing change as she fully started to wake up. He was starting to lose track of time, already. It had only been two nights sleeping in the same bed and it felt like twenty.

"How about we stay in and order room service?" 

Jenny nodded groggily and turned over as Joe picked up his phone to look at the menu. He scrolled with one hand, running his other hand through her hair. Jenny listened to him place the order, his voice was already seeping into her soul. And so was the way his hands felt on her.

"Can't believe it's my last full day already, check out tomorrow." Jenny said as she sat up, pulling a shirt over her head.

"When do you have to be home?" Joe asked as he reached out to touch her skin before the shirt fell down her back.

"Was planning on tomorrow night, catch a late train back."

"Can you stay one more night? Since Monday is a holiday?"

Jenny turned around at the tone of Joe's voice, a little unsure in his question but solid in his desire for her to stay. He ran his hand through his hair and caught her eye, a little grin on his face.  She found herself falling into the grey blue sea of his gaze, calm and steady.

"Maaaybe. If I had a place to stay ..."

"You can stay with me." 

Joe's quick and sure response was unsettling to Jenny. She hadn't wanted to question what they were doing, because they were living in the moment. But making plans? That wasn't living in the moment and the part of her that didn't trust anyone immediately began to question his motives. What, exactly, ARE we doing? Still, she maintained her composure.

"You sure?" Jenny asked casually, but Joe could see the doubt in her eyes and in the way she picked restlessly at the duvet.

"Jen?" Joe began, taking her hand gently in his, "I'm positive that I want you to stay with me tomorrow night."

Jenny smiled at him and nodded before standing up to use the bathroom. It pained him to see how much she second guessed everything he said, and he wanted nothing more than to make her believe he was interested, that he wouldn't lie to her. It was a mission he was officially signing up for.

“I told my brother about you.” Joe said as they finished breakfast, sitting across from each other on the bed.

“Really, when?” Jenny asked with surprise.

“Last night, when I went back to my flat. Apartment. Loft. Whatever. Anyways, Finn called me and yeah, I told him.”

“And? I need details here.” Jenny said with a laugh.

“He told me to make sure I had extra condoms.” Joe responded with a grin.

Jenny’s face turned red as she laughed again, burying her head into her hands.

“Well, was he right or was he right?” 

“I mean … based on last night, he was completely accurate.”

Jenny looked up at Joe with a smile and he winked at her, his smile widening as her face flamed red again. There was something about how he could read everything she was thinking, see it on her face. It felt different, like he’d always known her in some way.

He cleared the tray from the bed, setting it outside of the door, and turned around to find Jenny rubbing the side of her neck. 

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, just a chronic neck issue I’ve had for years, flares up sometimes.” 

“Come here.” Joe said as he took her hand and pulled her towards the top of the bed.

He sat down, propping himself up against a few pillows, and settled Jenny between his legs. He swept her hair over her shoulder and started to gently massage her neck, feeling her relax back into him a bit. After a few minutes, he stopped and pulled her shirt up over her head.  She stiffened slightly.

“You ok with this?” He whispered.

“Yes. Just … been awhile since I’ve been with someone. Like this.” Jenny whispered back.

He knew what she meant. Sex was one thing, you could detach emotionally to a certain degree, focus on the physical. But sitting in bed together, on a stormy morning, doing something like massaging the other person’s neck, it was intimate in a different way. Joe kissed her neck and then across her upper back, running his fingers down her spine.

“Well, this is a different massage technique.” Jenny joked, resting her hands on his legs.

“Only for you.” Joe replied, his mouth close to her ear, sending shivers across her body.

Jenny’s hands slid up to just above his knees as he tried to focus on massaging her shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her close to him. This is what he’d been waiting for, why the other girls he’d dated were fleeting connections. None of them ever touched his soul like this.

The following afternoon, Jenny unpacked a few things in Joe’s bedroom. He watched from the doorway, suddenly feeling self conscious about the fact that someone was in his space. He hadn’t fully unpacked yet, one of his suitcases exploding in the corner, script pages across the dining table. He had planned to spend that weekend getting himself settled and reviewing the script. Instead, he had fallen into a spell he’d never imagined.

Jenny turned around, heart pounding as she saw Joe watching her, leaning against the doorframe. The way he looked at her was melting the ice she’d built up for a long time, and she knew if she let him, he would get all the way inside. He raised his arm across his chest and rubbed his neck, feeling even more awkward.

“Sorry it's such a mess, been a bit busy this weekend.” He finally said with a smirk.

“It’s alright, it's really not messy.  You’re just not settled in yet, that’s all.” Jenny replied.

She walked over to the door and slid her arm around his waist, resting her head on his chest. Joe wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on hers, rocking back and forth slightly. It’s madness, really, but this is actually happening.

“There's something we need to do.” Jenny said.

“What’s that?”

“I need an iced tea.”

“That’s what we need to do?”

Jenny laughed and nodded as Joe followed her out of the apartment and onto the street. Every day here, he felt the city taking him in a little bit more. He knew it was like the ocean, beautiful with a dangerous current, commanding respect. And even then, it would spit you out from time to time, to land on the beach, hopefully unscathed.

They entered the coffee shop, and the barista looked up, unable to hide the smile on her face. The girl and the British guy were back, hand in hand. The girl pushed her sunglasses up on her head and stepped up to the counter to order. The barista gave a small look, one that only another girl would understand, and Jenny nodded with a little smile. So they are together. 

The barista watched them collect their order, the man touching the girl’s back as she put a straw in her cup. Her handing him a sugar packet for his tea. They were already that in sync. Whatever New York spell this was, the barista was completely captivated. That was the thing, when you lived within the city streets, the possibility of something happening became mundane sometimes.  And then you’d have an experience that couldn’t happen anywhere else, and you would come alive again. That was the magic of it. 

Joe held the door open for Jenny as they stepped back outside, and he turned to her as she flipped her sunglasses back down.

“Can I ask what that was about?” Joe said, taking her hand again.

“The barista. She was in the shop the morning we met, and the morning after. She’d noticed us. I thought she’d like to see the outcome so far. Of you and I.” Jenny replied.

“You noticed all that?”

“I notice everything.” 

“Going on your Blinders dissertation, yes, you certainly do.” Joe said with a laugh.

They walked down the street, hand in hand, lost in their own conversation. They earned longing looks, fleeting thoughts of how long they had been together, a few thinking the man looked vaguely familiar. A part of the city and a product of it.

Late Monday night, Joe stood with Jenny in the busy train station, holding the handle of her suitcase. Jenny thought back to the conversation they'd had that morning, sun streaming in through the window.  

“I was hoping, since you work from home, that maybe you could come back later this week and stay for a little bit?” Joe had asked her, as they lay facing each other.

Jenny watched as his eyes searched her face for a response, and she was compelled to reach her hand out, to run her fingers over the freckles across his cheek and then down to his scruffy beard.  The sunlight was picking up on the red in his hair and no man had ever looked so beautiful to her.

“I have a few things I need to take care of at home, but what if I come back Friday night? I’ll bring my work laptop so I can stay after the weekend.”

“That sounds good.” Joe said with a smile.

Now he was hugging her goodbye, and she felt a sudden panic. It was all well and good to talk about her coming back, but what if he changed his mind in the days between? When being apart seeped in and they both had perspective and distance.

“I’m going to call you every day, that’s a promise.” Joe whispered to her.

Jenny nodded in confirmation, but he knew for her it was a “I’ll believe it when I see it” situation. And he didn’t blame her, guys broke promises left and right, love bombed and ghosted, cheated and left. He wasn’t that person, but he understood he had to prove himself, and that was alright with him.

“I’ll let you know when I get home.” Jenny said, looking up at him.

“Please do. I’ll see you soon, love.” Joe replied.

Jenny smiled at the term of endearment, sliding her hand up to Joe’s neck as he kissed her one more time. 

“When I get back, we’re going to talk about this ear piercing you have, because, I gotta tell ya, the thought of you wearing an earring does things to me.” Jenny commented.

Joe laughed and nodded, bringing her in for one more hug. He handed over her suitcase, and she walked towards the track her train was at, turning back took look at him. He was watching her, the grey blue gaze she had already come to love, and they both had the feeling that the intensity between them was just beginning.  But would the spell break, once she left city limits?

[nikadoesanart]

Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

[moonbeamwritings]

of salt water and curious gazes

Summary: Following your grandmother’s death, her seaside home fell into your care, deemed the only one she could picture inhabiting it. Things were simple enough, tending to the garden and making frequent trips to the beach as you adjusted to life in the small town. It all changed, however, when you spent a night under the full moon with a rather peculiar blue eyed companion. (Merperson AU)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! This is definitely different from what I usually post, but I hope you guys are just as interested as I am! Let me know what you think! Also, buckle up! This is a long one and might end up being a part one 🤪

sequel: “of salt water and loving gazes”

Your grandmother’s home had always been your safe space, a place in which you were free to run around and spend your time as you saw fit. After her death though, it seemed as if all of the joy had been sucked out of the small, seaside cottage. Your heart broke just a little bit more as you turned down the all-too-familiar street and pulled into her, now your, driveway.

She’d left the house to you, explaining that she could see no one else living there but you. You had been itching for change, growing tired of the hustle and bustle of your daily life, so perhaps with fate’s guiding hand you would find solace along the shoreline, in your happy place. I know you’ll treat it well, the letter she had left assured you. P.S. The ocean works wonders for the soul. Don’t forget that. 

You gripped the steering wheel as you stared at the front of the house through the windshield. It was just as you remembered, bright blue hydrangeas dotted the garden, flowers fat and stems long, the doormat was perfectly centered, the mailbox the same faded green as it had always been.

With one final sigh, you willed yourself out of the car, keys jingling in your hands as you went. The house was much quieter now, lacking the bubbles of laughter and soft music that were staples of your childhood visits. The sweet smell of baked goods no longer wafted through the kitchen, her shoes no longer resting by the door. Most of her belongings had already been cleared out, handed off to friends and family, but what was left was yours. The house was yours. The thought that what once belonged to her was now left entirely in your care made your heart swell with both sadness and pride. You would make the best of this, if not for yourself, then for your dear grandmother.

Unloading your car was simple enough, taking only an afternoon to get everything completely organized. That night, you watched the sunset from the back porch, warm mug in hand as you looked out at the seemingly endless sea. Your eyes drooped as the vibrant colors of the sun were replaced by the pale yellow light of the moon.

Adjusting to life in the quaint little town was difficult. The townspeople who had known your grandma could only seem to muster pitying glances when they saw you out and about, treading lightly as they asked about you and your move. You stuck to the house most days to avoid them, cleaning things up and shifting things around.

Something about the beach had an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach though. As you traveled down the path, a bag slung over your shoulder and a towel in hand, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you, carefully tracking your every move.

Your grandmother’s neighbors were kind and friendly, no doubt willing to approach you if they were to see you sitting out. The beach itself was private, reserved for residents like yourself, so it’s not like wandering strangers lingered about. This feeling was different. It was as if the waves themselves were peering back at you, just as mesmerized by you as you were with them.

One day as you munched on a sandwich, legs pulled close to your chest as you stared out at the ocean, you could’ve sworn you saw curious blue eyes staring back. You stopped going to the beach for a few days after that.

The morning you finally returned to the beach left much to be desired. The beautiful blue sky and relaxing ebb and flow of the waves were replaced by thick fog and dark gray skies, waves rocking against the shore with more force. You had no idea what had compelled you to make the trek down to the beach that morning, but you had felt as though you were being pulled there, tugged along by a thin red thread, like you were supposed to be there.

The wind bit at your face as it rustled the fabric of your coat. You were thankful that it had yet to kick sand up into your eyes. As the water sloshed against your bare ankles, you could barely see three feet in front of you, fog completely obscuring the horizon. Your grandmother’s voice sounded in the back of your head, “I know you don’t like the beach when it’s foggy, but I’ll have you know, I’ve seen some of the cutest seals on days just like this one.”

Deciding that the waves weren’t as bad as you had expected and wanting to know if her words would ring true, you ventured down the jetty, carefully calculating each step so as not to stumble. 

On your way down the jetty, you caught sight of a familiar pair of blue eyes, just barely visible over the surface of the water. Why would someone be out swimming in conditions like these? Eyes scanning what little area you could see, you halted all movements, eagerly waiting for the person to resurface. Were you imagining things? Soon enough, a head popped out of the water, showing off broad shoulders, black hair, and… Was that a star tattoo?

Raising your voice to be heard over the wind, you called out, “Hey, dude! It’s not safe to be out swimming with all this fog! I’ve heard there have been sharks in the area recently!”

The person wheeled around at the sound of your voice, eyes widening in surprise. You watched as his mouth opened and closed, but no response came. Before you could get another warning in, he was dipping back below the surface, disappearing into the murky water. Without thinking, your feet carried you to the very tip of the jetty, searching for any sign of the solitary swimmer.

“Hello!? Hello!? Is anyone out there?”

You felt crazy as your head swiveled back and forth, ears tuning in to the gentle way the waves struck the rocks. It was quiet, deathly so. Was that just another trick of the eye? A manifestation of the loneliness you’d felt in your little seaside dwelling? The result of feeling like you were being watched for the past few weeks? You couldn’t tell.

You’d seen those eyes before, you’d assured yourself as you walked back to the sand, right? Surely they were the same ones you’d encountered during early morning sunrises or all the lunchtime meals you’d eaten on the beach. They were too familiar to be nothing more than a host of different, swimming strangers.

After the whole incident, you kept a close watch on those around you when you went into the grocery store and the other local shops. Did anyone’s eyes match that deep, unrelenting turquoise? Did anyone have that star tattoo on the back of their shoulder? You searched high and low, but reached no feasible conclusions, no answers that allowed you to sleep better at night.

In one of your more desperate late-night deep dives, no pun intended, you toyed with the idea that perhaps you’d seen some sort of siren, a merperson exploring the waters near your home. The melodrama of Twilight’s Bella Swan frantically searching the internet for answers to her vampiric questions flashed through your mind. You laughed out loud at the thought. That would not be you.

Weeks went by and things returned to relative normalcy. You still occasionally felt curious eyes on you, but you hadn’t seen any flashes of blue since that foggy morning. You ate your lunch, you cleared your head, all without any distractions from the mysterious man.

Your mind raced as you watched the sunset from your kitchen window, suds covering your hands while you worked a sponge over the dirty dishes in your sink. Earlier in the day, you’d received a phone call from a friend, essentially admonishing you for your move to your grandmother’s old house. They had completely ignored your feelings, only working from their own experiences as they ranted and raved. The call left you feeling drained and desperate to get down to the beach. Maybe dipping your toes into the salty water while you watched the full moon rise would ease the ache in your heart.

Pulling an oversized hoodie over your head, you made the walk down to the beach, taking your time to look for shells and sea glass as you went. Having no luck, you moved down the jetty, a pep in your step as you hopped from one rock to the other. At the end, you carefully shuffled out of your shoes before sitting down to let your feet and calves slip into the cool, dark water.

The moonlight left the ocean in front of you sparkling, like the stars themselves had fallen into the sea, shining brightly as they bobbed with the waves. You were thankful you had the beach to yourself.

To release some of your energy, you began swishing your feet back and forth beneath the surface, relishing in the soft movement of the water against your skin. Losing yourself in your thoughts, you’d hardly realized you were being watched until you heard the gentle sloshing of water off to your right, ripples traveling up against your legs.

You snapped your head away from the moon, scanning the glassy surface all around you. Your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat when you finally saw them. 

Blue eyes.

“You.”

The stranger’s eyes mirrored yours as you stared at one another. The droplets of water caught the light of the moon, bathing the man in the rolling starlight of the sea. Your heart fluttered.

“What the hell are you doing? Have you not heard about all of the shark sightings or do you just not care? Night swimming like that is so stupid.”

He waded closer, still beyond arm’s reach, but inching closer with the movement of the waves.

“I don’t need to worry about sharks.”

“What are you? Some kind of whisperer?”

He examined you carefully, mouth dipping below the surface only to reappear as he replied, “You could say that.”

The man’s body was entirely submerged save for his head and shoulders. You eyed each other as silence fell, punctuated by the crashing of waves in the distance. With his eyes on you like this, you felt as if you were being stalked, kept under a watchful glare for any signs of weakness.

“You know,” you spoke, attempting to diffuse the tension, “you can come sit up here with me, if you want.”

“No, thank you.” His reply was immediate, but your words had him closing some more distance. The closer he came to the jetty, the more you realized just how large he was, all broad shoulders and defined muscle. Imposing.

His eyes flickered down to watch your feet where they moved in the water, head tilting curiously as he followed the exposed skin up to the curves of your knees, eyeing them too. It’s like he’s never seen them before, you thought.

You floundered thinking about any way to continue the conversation with the handsome stranger, to attempt to distract him from the gentle sway of your legs. With a wide sweep of your leg, you unconsciously sent your foot towards the stranger, but instead of skin meeting skin, your toes brushed against the rigid surface of scales.

Scales!?

Your eyes shot open as you yelped, scrambling to pull your feet from the water and up onto the jetty, “What the fuck was that?”

Your knee jerk reaction sent the man in front of you reeling back as well, splashing back below the surface of the waves.

Your mind spiraled, forcing you to through your own Twilight movie moment. It was as if all the pieces were steadily falling into place: always swimming at odd hours and in adverse conditions, never seeing him in town, being unfazed by the presence of sharks. 

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. He couldn’t be… Could he?

Throwing caution to the wind out of sheer desperation for answers, you gently placed your feet back into the water, calling out for your potential new companion. You waited for any sort of response, resolving to sit for hours if you had to. Unexpectedly, you saw his eyes breach the surface once again, keeping his distance.

“Hey,” you spoke, keeping your voice as soft as possible, beckoning him closer with a wave of your hand, “Come here.”

He swam up to you, positioning himself in front of you. The man looked almost… cute like this, eyes wide and cautious as he stared up at you from the water.

“So, are you, like, a merperson or something? A merman?”

He nodded in lieu of response.

“Can I see?”

It took a long moment for him to move, eyes locked on yours as he thought over your tone of voice. Finally nodding, he leaned back, treading water with his arms as he exposed his tail to you.

It was breathtaking, the full expanse of it decorated with deep purple, almost black scales, like he had entire galaxies trapped within each and every one. The fluke glittered, iridescent under the beams of the moon. You gasped at the sight.

“It’s beautiful.”

Without thinking, you brushed your fingertips along the fluke, taking in the smooth, silky texture. In an instant, his hand shot out and took your wrist in its grip, removing it from his tail. Your eyes widened at the action, fear taking hold of your lungs at the feeling of his pointed nails against your skin.

“That tickles,” he quietly told you, loosening his hold on your wrist. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush at the admission.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” came his grumbled response.

You fell silent for a moment, mind still racing with the thoughts that you were actually in the presence of a merman, that your stupid midnight thoughts had actually been correct.

“Can you tell me your name?” You finally settled on asking, deciding that if this whole thing was going to continue beyond tonight, you should at least learn his name.

“It’s Jotaro.”

You parroted the name, testing it on your own lips, memorizing the sound. Jotaro placed your hand back in your lap, moving to place his elbows up on the rock beside you instead. “What’s yours?”

You shared your own name, smiling at his proximity. He followed your lead, repeating your name as he looked up at you.

You sat with Jotaro until your toes pruned, goosebumps rising on your skin as the night brought lower temperatures along with it. You smiled to yourself as you watched his eyes roam over the flesh, fascinated by your body’s reaction to the cold.

After shivering for what felt like the hundredth time, you bid Jotaro a goodnight, promising to meet him again the following night at around the same time. He nodded in response, sending one last, long look in your direction before disappearing back below the waves.

Curling your hands into the sleeves of your sweatshirt, you began the walk back to your home. The phone call with your friend had completely slipped your mind, instead replaced by the warm feeling Jotaro’s presence settled in your heart. With the scent of sea spray still lingering on your clothes, you washed the sand from your feet and turned in for the night. As you laid your head back against your pillows, you wondered if your grandmother had been right all along. Maybe the ocean truly did work wonders for the soul.